


You Are My Constant

by AlyssiaInWonderland



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Fever, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Shore Leave, Sickfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tumblr Prompt, and Spock insisting he is ok, because he's an adorable idiot, hints of McSpirk, just Jim taking care of Spock!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 15:07:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15051857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyssiaInWonderland/pseuds/AlyssiaInWonderland
Summary: Spock is sick with a low-grade fever while he and Jim are on shore leave. He doesn't want to ruin it and tries to hide being ill, but Jim notices and insists on taking care of him! Pure, pure sickfic fluff for a tumblr prompt!!





	You Are My Constant

Spock felt, to put it colloquially,’like hell’. Shore leave on Risa was all very well, and he had been content - in fact, he was willing to admit it to himself, he had been enjoying it. The beach and adjoining town was beautiful, sun-soaked and covered with honey-coloured buildings that glowed richly in the sunlight and looked like drawings each day at noon when the sun left no shadows. Jim called it beautiful, and Leonard called it eerie; Spock called it fascinating, the calculations and understanding of how the lack of shadow produced such a phenomenon intricate and intriguing.

But today, Leonard was on call back on the ship, the sun grated against his eyes, and though logically he knew that even as a Vulcan he should be at least impressed by the heat, he felt irrationally cold. He suppressed a shiver as best as he was able, and reached for his preferred jumper. It was the optimal combination of soft and warm, aesthetically pleasing. The sentimental value of wearing a present from Jim was not part of the calculation - or rather, it was a moderating constant that was heavily skewed towards being only a low factor in his decisions. That he often worse such clothing only spoke of it’s practicality and the benefit of such things on relationships. He kept quiet about this, though. He suspected that if he informed Jim that his pleasure was taken into account in his outfit calculations, he would be accused of being ‘romantic’, and in his current state he was not sure if he would argue or agree, or which outcome would be worse.

Armoured in his soft grey jumper and jeans, he moved to meet Jim by the door, bracing himself for the outside air and chaos of the beach. He knew that the density of the air had not changed, but his hearing was impaired, and Jim’s concerned voice sounded like it was coming from much further away than it should have.

“Spock? Why are you wearing a jumper - are you alright?”  
  
Spock drifted into a calculation, trying to understand the new air density that would result in such warped sound travel, and was brought out of it by Jim’s hands on his shoulders.  
  
“Spock, you with me? You’re not allowed to collapse on me, do you hear? Bones would never let me hear the end of it! He’s told us both often enough to keep in the damn shade!”  
  
“I do believe the Doctor would gripe and growl about any of our choices, Jim.” Spock mumbled the reply, his vocal chords not entirely co-operative, expressing his amusement and frustration far too openly. He took a deep breath to try and steady himself, retreat back to logic, but the breath he took felt like it ricocheted through his brain, creating dark spots in his vision.  
  
When his awareness sprang back, he was slumped against Jim, and Jim was attempting to help him back to their bed.

“No, Jim, I am quite alright!” Spock twisted in Jim’s grip, sending them both stumbling until he caught himself against the wall, Jim pressed up against him, uncomfortably cool against his skin. “We should…you desired to attend the beach today. I do not wish to…interfere with our plans…” Spock realised he sounded distressed but he could no more control his emotional expression than he could his limbs.  
  
“Oh, Spock…” Jim moved to take his shoulders again, his gaze warm and soft and understanding. Everything he had fallen in love with and more. Spock shook his head, confused at the fondness in Jim’s expression until he realised he had said those thoughts aloud.  
  
“I have no doubt that Bones would call us both fools, but I love you too, my ashayam. And I’m illogically glad of your regard for me. Now, lets get you to bed.” Spock felt Jim lift an arm over his shoulder and he did his best to move his limbs in a helpful manner to reach the bed. When they reached it, he collapsed onto it, curling up instinctively. Everything felt loud and bright and overwhelming, and his shivers returned with such a vengeance that he could not control them any longer. He barely felt Jim leave before he returned with a cool, damp cloth that was somehow soothing on his forehead. He frowned, the cloth sliding off him and onto the bed.  
  
“Jim, I do not wish to ruin our shore lea-” Spock began, all his sadness and worry and frustration collating into a distressed sob, as Jim stroked his forehead and replaced the cloth.  
  
“Shhh, t’hyla. You’re not ruining anything. Just relax, be calm, and let me help.” Jim pressed a soft kiss to Spock’s cheek, and all the fight drained out of him as swiftly as his energy had left him. He nuzzled into Jim’s hand, weakly. He ached all over, and he felt utterly miserable and out of control. But Jim was right there to catch him and hold him together, like always. He slipped in and out of awareness, but every time he woke, he felt Jim’s hands soft in his hair or changing the blessedly cool cloths, and despite the pain, he felt at peace. Safe. He drifted off to sleep, content in the knowledge that between Jim and McCoy, he would be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all!! Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> As ever, comments and kudos feed my dark soul ;p


End file.
